


Liberosis

by Lozzy4992



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Get together fic, Idk what to tag this with, M/M, don’t want to give too much away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 20:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lozzy4992/pseuds/Lozzy4992
Summary: Greg uses a new word, and things happen.





	Liberosis

Liberosis /l ɪ b r əʊ s ɪ s/: Noun. The desire to care less about something.

* * *

Behind a dark, oak door in the depths of the Diogenes Club, Mycroft and Greg sat across from one another, nursing crystal tumblers with a heavy splash of scotch over thick ice cubes.

“I am relieved to hear that Sherlock has been behaving himself as of late,” the redhead commented in his typical aloof tone, raising the glass to his lips.

“Give it time; he’ll be itchin’ for a case and back to his old ways before we know it.” The DI continued to nurse his drink, the wry smile that had appeared from the humour of his response relaxing.

“Indeed, but we can enjoy the serenity whilst it lasts,” Mycroft leaned further into his seat, “How has work been for you otherwise, Lestrade?”

“Mycroft, I’ve told you before, call me Greg,” the older man chuckled, “It’s been the usual, although I’m finding myself in an ever growin’ state of liberosis; I need a better work-life balance.”

There was a pause. “My apologies, Lestrade, I think I misheard you, what was that you said?” Mycroft asked, carefully setting his glass down on the table beside him.

“I said I’m in an ever growing state of liberosis. It’s my word of the day,” the DI flashed a satisfied grin, “my aunt got me one of those calendars with a different word each day on it, I’ve been tryin’ to fit liberosis into a conversation all day and now I have, so thanks for the chance.”

Mycroft managed a small, thin smile, “It is quite alright,” he then picked up his phone and unlocked it, “Oh, I have a very urgent matter to attend to, top secret and all of that, I am going to have to bid you a good evening.”

Greg’s eyebrows furrowed, “But your phone didn’t go off... and no-one texts you apart from Sherlock.” The older man looked over the government official, noting his flushed cheeks and wide eyes, “Mycroft, are you OK?”

“Fine, absolutely fine,” he replied quickly, his tone higher than usual before looking down at his phone again, “This emergency is quite something, so I really need you to go.”

“I know that you’re lyin’.” The inspector left his seat and moved to kneel close to the flustered man. “Are you having a panic attack? Is there anythin’ I can get you?”

“No, no, I’m fine, really.”

Upon hearing the contraction the typically eloquent man used, Greg shook his head, “You’re definitely not.” He quickly rose and went to the water jug on the side, filling a glass before bringing it over and pressing it into the other man’s clammy hand. “Take some sips. You’re shaking, Mycroft, what’s wrong? I can help you.”

He carefully set the untouched water next to his scotch glass before closing his eyes, “You can help by leaving.”

“What? I’m not leavin’ you like this,” he kneeled close to him again, leaving more space than he had previously. “Despite how you may see our relationship, I consider you a friend and I never leave friends in a state.”

He took slow, deep breaths before speaking, “I promise I will be fine, Lestrade, but your presence will, if anything, make it worse. I’ll be in touch.”

“Mycroft, come on-”

“Please, Lestrade,” he opened his eyes and held the other man’s gaze briefly.

The silver-haired man sighed and rose. “OK, I’ll go. Just let me know when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright. Good evening, Lestrade.”

“See you later.” Greg gathered his things and with a final look over to his friend, he left.

* * *

Greg was not expecting anyone when the buzzer for his apartment cried out, snapping him away from the panel show he was watching. He got up with a sigh and went over to the phone before lifting it to his ear. “‘Ello?”

“Good evening, Gregory. I apologise for the lateness. May I come in?”

He hit the button to unlock the door, “Mycroft! Yeah, sure, door should be open.”

“Thank you.”

He set the phone back on its hook and darted back into the living room, turning off the TV before taking his plate and cutlery from his dinner to the dishwasher and clearing up any mess he saw. Once satisfied with the state of the flat, he headed for the entrance, stopping quickly to check his appearance- shrugging at his old Eagles t-shirt and loose sweatpants- before opening the door.

Mycroft appeared moments afterwards, soon stopping outside the door. “Good evening, Lestrade.”

“Hey, come in,” he stepped aside so the other man could enter, closing the door behind him and heading to the living room. Greg then sat on the sofa, looking up at the redhead who remained standing. “Sit.”

“I would rather stand.”

“If we’re gonna talk about earlier then you probably should sit.”

Mycroft sighed and complied, taking the seat furthest from the DI. “Yes, that is why I came. I would like to apologise-”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“It is very kind of you to say, but I feel it is needed. You... triggered something, and it would be best if we left it in the past.”

“What did I trigger? I feel like I should know what it is so I can avoid it in the future.”

“You are making this a lot harder than I hoped you would,” Mycroft sighed again. “You used the word ‘liberosis’, which reverses a procedure I had some time ago. I will be having it again as soon as time allows for myself and the practitioner. There was actually no need to tell you that; the word will need to be changed so to maintain the effects of the procedure.”

Greg’s brows furrowed deeply, asking slowly, “You had a procedure which can be undone by a word?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

“That is a little personal, is it not?”

“Maybe, but you know more about me comparatively, so I think knowin’ this one thing would be considered fair.”

Mycroft began to pick at invisible lint on his pants, “It is a silly procedure, Lestrade, you would not want to know.”

“Why won’t you tell me this one thing? Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you; you have given me no reason to doubt you.”

“Then I don’t understand why this is such a big deal.” Brown eyes seared into the other man, who refused to look at him. “A procedure that can be reversed with a word... it sounds like some deep level hypnosis-type thing...” Moments after silence fell over the two, Mycroft cleared his throat quietly. “OK, it is some deep level hypnosis-type thing, so basically hypnotherapy. Now I’ve figured that out for myself, are you going to explain why you had it, or do I have to guess that too?”

The redhead allowed his head to loll briefly against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed before lifting it. “If I must tell you, it will require a preface.”

“Sure, I just want to help. Do whatever you need to.”

“Alright,” silence fell over the pair as he gathered his thoughts. “I need you to realise that what I am about to tell you will only be temporary and we will be able to resume our... arrangement, once I have had the procedure redone, and you will not need to concern yourself with it any longer.” Greg stayed silent and Mycroft sighed again, “Yes, I had a session of hypnotherapy, and liberosis was the assigned word to break its effect. The therapist advised that there be one, as without it I may experience negative repercussions. Liberosis was meant to be obscure enough that you would never say it, but obviously there are certain inevitabilities that I could not have predicted, and even if I did, the probability was too low to be accounted for.”

Mycroft paused, pushing his palms down his thighs as he took another deep breath before speaking slowly, “The therapy was so I could suppress some... romantic feelings I have... for you.” The silence between them hung thick for a few pregnant seconds, his face growing a deeper shade of red with every moment passing, before he continued, “So to avoid any tension between us, I chose not to share this with you. This was decided also due to the fact my sexuality is a well-guarded secret from everybody excluding previous partners and Sherlock. He deduced it when I was at university, rather than being told. When I asked you to leave, it was because with my feelings unsuppressed, being in your presence makes thinking and, on occasion, speaking coherently a monumental task, especially when brought on in such a blindsiding manner.”

Greg watched the other man for a moment before clearing his throat. “Wow, um... I wasn’t expectin’ that, Mycroft, I’ll be honest. But now you’ve told me, it will concern me-”

“Lestrade, I assure you, it will be dealt with as soon as possible and you need not worry about it further.”

“But what if I don’t want you to deal with it?” For the first time since prior to Mycroft’s confession, he looked at the DI, his blue eyes uncommonly quizzical. It was Greg’s turn to blush, “What if you’re not the only one who’s been havin’ feelin’s?” He cleared his throat. “Romantic feelings.” When he was met with only a shocked expression, the older man shuffled closer, turning his body towards the other. “What if, every time you’ve kidnapped me and taken me to some hidden location, or invited me to your office at the Diogenes Club, or shown up at a crime scene, or my office, I’ve wished it was more than extra help on a case or checkin’ up on Sherlock?” He took Mycroft’s hand, which was resting on his slack-clad knee. “I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you.”

“You barely know me.”

Greg shrugged. “In some ways, yes, but what I do know, I like a lot.” He sent the other man a shy smile, “So, with all said and done, maybe we could go out sometime? Dinner, perhaps? Or if you rather do somethin’ more private, I can cook for us. I’m up for anythin’ to be honest, I’d just really like the chance to go on a date with you.”

Mycroft returned the smile, slowly turning his hand over to take Greg’s, “I am sure something can be arranged.”

The pair held one another’s gaze before Mycroft’s eyes dropped to the other man’s lips, wetting his own as he turned more towards the object of his affections. Greg’s gaze fell as well, his hand tightening around the one he held before he began to lean in.

He stopped millimetres away from his lips, “Is this?...”

Mycroft, whose eyes were already half-closed in anticipation, nodded slightly, “Yes, it is...”

Greg grinned and closed the gap between them, his hand leaving Mycroft’s to cup his jaw and his other hand replacing the first as Mycroft squeezed the new hand he was holding and held himself upright with his free one. The kiss was slow and soft, quiet and gentle as the pair became acquainted with each other on a newfound level.

When they pulled away, only their breathing could be heard as they slowly opened their eyes and met the other’s gaze. Mycroft grinned giddily and Greg couldn’t help but return it.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” the older man murmured.

“I have too,” the redhead breathed before clearing his throat, “So, um, shall I call you with my availability this week?”

The DI’s grin widened, “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

The pair separated and Mycroft stood, Greg mimicking before they headed for the door. Before it could be opened, Greg pulled Mycroft in for a second, more passionate kiss, causing the latter to moan softly against the older man’s lips.

They broke apart again before Greg pressed a final soft kiss to the government official’s lips. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mycroft.”

“Until then, Gregory,” Mycroft replied. He stepped out of the older man’s arms and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway as Greg leaned against the wall, watching as the lithe man made his way to the stairs, turning back briefly to send a final smile and a quiet ‘goodnight’ before descending out of sight, leaving Greg to close the door.


End file.
